


Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?

by Adarosa



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2019-12-18 11:24:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18248867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adarosa/pseuds/Adarosa
Summary: POVs from Baz and Simon leading up to the first time they have sex. With lots of angsty feels.





	1. Is This A Lasting Treasure?

**Author's Note:**

> Title and chapter heading from The Shirelles.
> 
> This is the first thing I have ever written and posted on AO3. I'll post further, longer chapters if there's any appetite for it

_Baz_

It wasn't how I’d dreamt it would be. 

He wasn't how I’d fantasised he’d be. 

We weren’t how I’d yearned that we would be. 

All those years of being so deliciously, so tantalisingly, so excruciatingly close and now this. 

No gropefest. No tussling. No biting. And definitely no fucking. 

Sure there was kissing. Tonight had been another whole night of it - of glorious, sing to the high heavens kissing and teeth clashing and fingers in hair tangling and of nuzzling in to get as much of that new Simon scent in my lungs as possible 

But every time my hand had inched its way lower than his waist I felt him still slightly. 

And so I stopped. Each time. Because no matter how much I wanted him, I wanted him to keep on wanting me. And the only way to do that seemed to be to pretend I didn't want him as much as I did. Defeating the Mage and the Insidious Humdrum was child's play next to this. Were we ever going to untie this knot? Not tonight for that was for sure. 

I thought back to all those nights when I'd brought myself off thinking about him as he lay asleep in the bed across from me in our old shared room. And now he was here. Right next to me. Just how I'd imagined he'd be. 

I sighed. No. I wasn’t going to go back to those old ‘make do and wank’ Watford days. If anyone was going to touch my cock it wasn't going to be me. It had to be him. 

I was even begin to doubt myself in a most un-me like manner. And the doubting. It was making me snippy. It was making me snide. It was turning me back into the Baz from Baz and Simon version 1.0, original flavour, the unrebooted series days. 

I propped myself up on my elbow and looked at Simon as he slept. He was just too much. And the whole situation was too much for tonight. Feeling dissatisfied and more than a little horny, I wriggled back into the bed clothes and resolved to get some sleep. Perhaps I’d get some satisfaction in my dreams…


	2. Can I believe the magic of your sighs?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon is feeling angsty. And Penelope is being annoying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work and chapter titles from the song by The Shirelles
> 
> Thanks for the kudos so far. I will probably wrap this up in another chapter or two,

**Simon** ****

Penelope was doing my head in. 

You’d think after all the years we’d spent together – not least that really intense last term at Watford when it felt like she’d practically lived with Baz and me – that I’d have a good idea about what living with Penelope would actually be like. Turns out not so much. Now I was getting the full 24/7/365 Penelope Bunce experience and for Penelope that seemed to mean she expected a triple A pass to my mind and all that was happening – or not – with Baz. 

Part of me got it. She wasn’t trying to be nosy or to pry and she didn’t have any hang ups about the gay stuff that she was trying to rationalise away. (Hmmm. in fact when I came to think of it I was starting to wonder a bit about her and Agatha…maybe one to file away for later when I’d sorted my *own* tangled thoughts out.) No - it was just a case of Penelope Bunce and her big brain which liked things categorised and neatly filed away. If I was honest with myself the most annoying thing wasn’t so much that she was asking but more that I couldn’t answer her. 

So here I was feeling really uncomfortable and maybe even a little bit miserable, right here in my own kitchen, trying to shove some Weetabix down my mouth in a ‘get rid of my rumbling tummy’ and a ‘try to avoid answering questions about me and Baz’ two-for-one special deal. 

It didn’t make sense really. I was the one who’d made the grand gesture. I was the one who’d gone in for the first kiss. A kiss with a vampire. Who wanted to kill me. And I wasn’t even called Bella Swan. 

So why was I acting so unsure now? I knew Baz was picking up on it. The last time he’d stayed over I’d frozen again even though I’d secretly resolved to myself that this would be the first time we’d sleep together. Even the language I was using in my head was wrong. ‘Resolve’. Who the flip should need ‘resolve’ to sleep with the most insanely hot vampire/wizard/man who also happened to be his boyfriend and who was, just, well Baz…? 

It wasn’t so much that I needed answers – I had a good idea of what was going on in my head particularly if I was brave enough to scratch a little deeper. I just needed to fully open about these thoughts and fears to myself. Only then could I get them square enough in my head to be able to share them with Baz. 

Grand Inquisitrix Bunce wasn’t going to give me the peace and quiet needed to do that. So I mumbled some excuses through my last mouthful of Weetabix, grabbed my keys and my phone and headed out of the flat leaving Penelope still spluttering questions in my wake. She’d get over it. 

I headed to Victoria Park – my new Simon quiet time place. I’d not really visited it much before Penelope and I moved in together. It wasn’t one of London’s most famous parks and it certainly didn’t have the magical associations of some of London’s other green spaces like Hampstead Heath or Regent’s Park. But that, along with the fact that it was a 20 minute walk from our flat, was what made it perfect for me right now. So long as I could avoid all the hipsters walking their French bulldogs. 

I found myself a spot by a tree near the water and settled down to think. It wasn’t easy. My mind kept looping around and shying away from the most uncomfortable thoughts and feelings. But what it came down to was feeling like I was a fraud. I’d hated it when everyone expected me to be this saviour of magic – treating me with kid gloves and despising me at the same time. I’d never believed I was special. Not magically and not as a boyfriend. My failures with magic and Agatha had been constant reminders of that. And now I really was this magical non-entity and my inner fears had become my outer reality. Except that now all the Baz stuff had got mixed up in it. Now I was Normal just when I finally had someone – the one - that I most wanted to be special for. 

Old habits die hard. I mentally cast **Faint heart never won fair lady.** It wasn’t going to work in any meaningful, magical way. And Baz was certainly no lady. But it gave me what I needed to pick up my phone, message Baz and ask him to come and stay over at the weekend. Hopefully I’d not blown it already… 


	3. But will my heart be broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz wishes he was better at texting

**Baz**

My phone chirruped. Such a cheery sound. Simon must have been mucking around with my ringtones again. Annoying. Just last week he’d changed it to a mewing kitten noise. Needless to say that didn’t do much for the moody ‘I’m a secret vampire now please bugger off’ image I felt safest projecting.

Feeling a bit grumpy I reached down to grab my phone to change it back to something more suitably on Baz brand. Only to find a message from Simon winking there at me. Did I want to open it now? Give him the satisfaction of knowing that as soon his message was delivered the two ticks beside it would light up and show that it had been read right away. ‘Course I bloody didn’t. I opened it right away though. Who was I kidding?

‘ _Look_. _I’m_ _sorry_ _about_ _last_ _night_. _I’m_ _an_ _idiot_. _Can_ _I_ _come_ _round_ _to_ _yours_ _tonight?_ ’

Well. That was certainly an opening. Maybe an opening to an opening... I could work with that...

‘ _Not_ _sure_ _if_ _that’s_ _convenient_ _tonight_ , _Snow_. _I’m_ _washing my hare_ ’

I hit send. And then fuuuuuuuuck. Hare. Autocorrect officially just made me want to die. Then that chirrup again.

‘ _Your_ _hare_? _Is_ _there_ _something_ _I_ _should_ _know_ , _Baz_?’

I need to style this one out. Urgently.

‘ _Come_ _round_ _tonight_ _and_ _find_ _out_. _9ish_ _OK_ _for_ _you_?’

One last check for typos and Send...

And then the agonising wait to see if he’d read my message as quickly as I’d read his. Yes. Yes, he did. I preened inside a little.

My message app window displayed ‘The Chosen One is typing...’ FFS, how long did it take to type Yes? Again with the chirrup.

_‘Sure. I’ll look forward to seeing you both later’_

Later...That was now possibly my favourite word in the English language.


End file.
